Hurricane Feezal
by PJ in NH
Summary: In Stigma, Mrs. Phlox was very interested in Trip Tucker. What if Trip wasn't the only male on Enterprise she was attracted to? AN: THe exercise bicycle scene in the episode has been rewritten in this story [R/S, T]


Title: Hurricane Feezal  
Contact: kelhapam@metrocast.net  
Series: ENT  
Rating: R  
Code: R/S  
Part: 1/3 NEW   
Date: February 08, 2003  
  
Summary: In Stigma, Mrs. Phlox was very interested in Trip  
Tucker. What if Trip wasn't the only male on Enterprise she was  
attracted to? AN: The exercise bicycle scene in the episode, has  
been rewritten in this story.  
  
Disclaimer: Paramount owns all the characters, etc., I am just  
using the characters for a little fun and relaxation.  
  
Note of Appreciation. Special thanks to my beta readers: P.J.  
Sutherland, Ronda Sexton, Val, Jessica, and Nancy (special thank  
you to Jess and Nancy for their encouragement).  
  
Posting: Please notify me before you do.  
  
  
Hurricane Feezal  
  
02/08/03  
  
  
Malcolm calculated the trajectory, total mass, speed of impact,  
and deftly speared his cherry tomato with his fork. Pausing  
before he brought it to his mouth, he turned to Trip. "Then  
during Mrs. Phlox's tour of the Armoury, she suddenly stopped  
beside me and sniffed. Not a casual sniff mind you, but like she  
was trying to memorize my scent. Bloody hell, I was glad I'd put  
on my deodorant this morning. Any idea what that was all about,  
Trip?"  
  
Malcolm noted that Trip had suddenly stopped chewing his pot  
roast and was giving him a funny look.   
  
"Trip? Are you choking? Do you need some water?" The Brit  
pushed his water glass nearer to the engineer.  
  
Trip grabbed the tumbler and emptied it in one gulp. He wiped  
his mouth with the back of his hand, and before he replied. "She  
did what?"  
  
Chewing on the tomato while he sawed away at his pork chop, the  
armory officer nodded then swallowed. "She sniffed me. I didn't  
know what to make of it."  
  
"Oh, God! Not you too?" Trip groaned.  
  
"Beg your pardon?"  
  
"You weren't there when Feezal...er...Mrs. Phlox arrived on board  
were you, Malcolm?"  
  
"Nope, I was busy on the bridge. Why?"  
  
"Then you didn't see her and the doctor when they first met. I  
tell you if one of them had turned around and then sniffed, it  
would have reminded me of that old dog my grandfather used to  
own. Sniffed all the female dogs in the neighborhood, just  
before he..."  
  
"I think I get the picture, Trip."  
  
"I'm not sure you do. It was very strange. Both comical and  
erotic. Very bizarre combination. I didn't know whether to  
laugh or to take a cold shower."  
  
Malcolm placed his fork and knife back on his plate and rested  
his chin against his cupped hands. "So let me get this straight,  
you're saying she was trying to come on to me?" Fortunately the  
dining room was all but vacant, so no one heard their  
conversation.  
  
"Yep. Ya should'a seen her in Sickbay. She didn't actually  
sniff me, but she got *real* close -- and sometimes even when the  
Doc was in the room!"  
  
With a grin and a shake of his head, Malcolm picked up his fork  
and continued with his meal. "Well, Denobulans do have more  
than one spouse. So they probably aren't as self-conscious with  
their displays of affection." He laughed lightly. "She is  
rather cute, in a Denobulan sort of way."   
  
The table suddenly vibrated as a tray of food slammed onto the  
surface. The motion caused the bowl of soup on the tray to  
slosh, dribbling its tomato base down the side of the bowl.   
  
"You call that just a 'display of affection'?" Hoshi asked the  
Brit. "Looked to me like she was trying to inhale you!"  
  
"Ah, Hoshi. Um...I didn't realize you were in the Armory at the  
time," Malcolm remarked, clearly self-conscious. Like the  
gentleman he was, he rose from the table waiting for Hoshi to  
take her seat.   
  
Turning away from the Brit, Hoshi focused all her attention on  
the Southerner, as she lowered herself onto the chair. "How  
quick they forget, Commander," Hoshi remarked sweetly as if  
indulging an errant child.   
  
Trip smiled, but didn't appear to comprehend Hoshi's insinuation.  
  
"Ensign?" Malcolm prompted now seated again. The engineer wasn't  
the only one who didn't understand her reference.  
  
Hoshi turned back toward the lieutenant. "What day is it?" she  
asked slowly, her head tilted to her right slightly, and she gave  
Reed a small smile.  
  
"Um...Tuesday."  
  
The Communications Officer unwrapped the napkin from around her  
eating utensils, and selected a soup spoon. She stirred her  
steaming bowl of tomato vegetable soup slowly and deliberately,  
not taking her eyes off the liquid.   
  
"Is there anything specific that happens every Tuesday?" Her  
eyes lifted and focused again on the lieutenant.  
  
"Well I always clean the torpedo tubes, and then I run the  
diagnostics on the...oh. Oh no. Bloody hell, I completely  
forgot!"   
  
"We've only been doing *it* every Tuesday and Thursday at noon  
for the last nine months. I thought you enjoyed our time  
together!"  
  
"Ah, listen, you two," Trip interjected. "This is way too much  
infor..."  
  
Hoshi ignored the engineer. "I know you wish we had more time  
together, so lately I've been trying to come earlier."   
  
A blushing Trip moved to rise from the table. With one hand,  
while still looking at Malcolm, Hoshi gripped the embarrassed  
man's forearm and pulled Trip back down into his seat.   
Apparently she either demanded a witness or an audience.  
  
Malcolm buried his head in his hands and groaned. "I'm so sorry,  
Hoshi, I forgot all about it. You see the Captain asked...and  
then I....and she..."  
  
"I thought you enjoyed our noon-times together?" Hoshi continued.   
"You told me you looked forward to it? You weren't just leading  
me on were you?"  
  
Trip tried to rise again, but Hoshi's grip remained firm.  
  
Malcolm lowered his hands and looked at the irate ensign. "Look  
can we reschedule target practice for some other time? How about  
after tonight's evening meal? And we can make it two hours, not  
just one."   
  
"Target practice?" Trip asked the pair. "This is about target  
practice?"  
  
Malcolm turned toward his friend. "What did you think it was  
about?" he asked innocently.  
  
"You don't want to know." Trip shook his head, and removed  
Hoshi's hand from his sleeve. "Look, you two, I have to get back  
down to Sickbay. Feezal's...er...Mrs. Phlox is expecting me."  
  
"You better hope that's not all she's expecting, Trip," Malcolm  
joked.  
  
With a smile and a shake of the head, Trip left the pair behind.  
  
"Just 'target practice,' Malcolm?" Hoshi cooed.  
  
"Well, it sounds much better than 'doing the dirty deed' doesn't  
it?" the Brit remarked.  
  
The linguist chuckled.  
  
  
  
* * * * * * *  
  
  
The rest of the afternoon passed rather smoothly for the ship's  
armory officer. He recalibrated the tactical sensors and  
performed some overdue crew evaluations, all the while looking  
forward to an evening meal with Hoshi followed by a double dose  
of 'target practicing.'   
  
Carrying his ever-present DataPADD with him, Malcolm queued up in  
the mess hall. Tucking the PADD under one arm, he picked up his  
tray. He stepped away from the food bar, and seeing Hoshi seated  
off to the side, he walked over and sat down across the table  
from her.   
  
"I've arranged for us to do target practicing in the secondary  
cargo bay. It's currently about three-quarters empty," Malcolm  
said as he dug into his pasta.   
  
"Isn't that the cargo bay that has all the foam blast protection  
screens in it?" Hoshi inquired as she spread her napkin on her  
lap.  
  
"You know, I do believe you are right?" Malcolm remarked  
casually.   
  
"If I recall correctly, they are approximately the size of couple  
of the ship's bunks?"  
  
The Brit smiled knowingly. "I'd say more like three, perhaps  
four."  
  
"More like three or four what?"  
  
Hoshi and Malcolm looked up to see that Feezal Phlox had joined  
them, taking a seat beside Hoshi. Her dinner plate was laden  
with several different foods, ranging from the pasta of the day  
to breadsticks, pickles, and pastry.  
  
Malcolm coughed.   
  
"Three or four...ah...work shifts," Hoshi supplied with a nod.   
"We were talking about the ship's schedule."  
  
"I see," Feezal picked up a large dill pickle and brought it to  
her lips. Lazily she licked it and proceeded to move it in and  
out of her mouth.  
  
"You see," Malcolm began. He cleared his throat, apparently  
uncomfortable with the Denoblan's presence and actions. "We were  
debating whether it's more efficient to schedule three work  
shifts a day or..."   
  
His voice caught when he felt a decidedly feminine foot rub along  
the inside of his lower leg. He cleared his throat, noticed  
Hoshi smile, and reassured he began again.   
  
"You see we thought maybe a four-shift day would allow for  
more..."   
  
The foot continued its exploration, this time rising above  
Malcolm's knee and up the Brit's inside thigh.   
  
"...allow for more er...flexibility," he croaked.  
  
"I'm sure you are *very* flexible," Feezal remarked, her voice  
dripped with desire and innuendo. Abruptly she bit into the  
pickle and with a wide Denobulan smile on her face she chewed and  
swallowed.  
  
"Um...well...  
  
"I hope your captain realizes just how dedicated you are to the  
ship's efficiency. I mean, talking business when you are  
supposed to be relaxing? You really should take the time to  
enjoy yourself."   
  
Feezal picked up the flaky pastry and breaking it in half  
revealed the jelly and creme interior. "Life's too short to  
always be working," she continued and taking her finger scooped  
out a dollop of sweet white creme. "My husbands were the same  
way before I got to know them. All work, all talk, no time to  
enjoy the finer things in life." Flicking her long tongue out,  
she ever so slowly licked the creme from her finger. Swallowing  
the confection, she smiled that unnatural Denobulan wide grin  
before she continued. "Of course it wasn't long before we met  
before I was able to show them how relaxing, as well as  
invigorating, a passionate relationship could be."  
  
Malcolm sat dumbfounded by Feezal's words and actions. He was at  
a loss as to what to say to the woman, and he prayed the other  
members of the crew in the mess hall, hadn't overheard her  
conversation.  
  
"Do you understand what I'm trying to say, Mr. Reed?" Feezal  
placed her hand over Malcolm's.  
  
Reacting as if he had been scalded, the Armory Officer quickly  
jerked his hand away. Feezal smiled slightly and leaned back  
against her chair.  
  
"Um, Malcolm, we *do* have that target practice to get to," Hoshi  
remarked. She rose to her feet and picked up her food tray.   
"Maybe we should take our meals with us. We wouldn't want to be  
late."  
  
"Good idea, Hoshi!" Malcolm was thankful for her intervention.   
"Ah, look here comes Travis!" Reed waved to the pilot beckoning  
him to come over.   
  
Travis Mayweather nodded, acknowledging his friend's request, and  
walked towards the table with his own meal.   
  
"What can I do for you, Malcolm?" he asked.   
  
"Have you met Mrs. Phlox yet?" he asked, he motioned towards the  
grinning Denobulan.  
  
"I met her when she visited the bridge," he said. "It's good to  
see you again, Mrs. Phlox." Travis placed his tray down upon the  
table and shook hands with the woman.  
  
"Please call me Feezal."   
  
Travis grinned broadly. "Of course."  
  
"I'm sure you won't mind keeping Feezal company, while Hoshi and  
I attend to some business, would you, Engsign?" he asked, knowing  
the pilot wouldn't refuse an indirect command from a superior  
officer.  
  
"Oh, not at all, Lieutenant. I'll be glad to keep her company!"  
  
Without any further hesitation, Malcolm and Hoshi left the mess  
hall.  
  
  
* * * * * * *  
  
  
"And you are sure the door's locked?" Hoshi asked for the fourth  
time.  
  
"Locked tighter than a drum, my dear," Malcolm reconfirmed.   
Spent and happily content, he rolled off of her and allowed the  
linguist to pillow her head against his chest. With his free  
hand, he pulled a blanket up over their sweat-glistened nude  
bodies.  
  
"Maybe we should reschedule our *practice time* permanently," she  
suggested with a joyful sigh. "It was very fortunate that the  
emergency beacons and blankets are also stored his this room. I  
like how you made them flicker. And the wine you brought was  
exquisite."  
  
Malcolm smiled and hugged her naked body against his own. The  
flickering light of the beacons was reflected all around the  
cargo bay. "Took care of it myself this afternoon. I wanted to  
get hold of some of T'Pol's candles, but she's the only one  
authorized to use them."   
  
"And the phasers and the targeting dummy?" she asked.  
  
"Damn, you know I think I left those in the Armoury." He didn't  
sound at all sorry.  
  
"Too bad." Hoshi ran her hand over her lover's chest,  
seductively, raking her fingers through his chest hair.  
  
"Yeah. Of course with the way you were coming on to me in the  
mess hall, it's a wonder I didn't do my 'target practicing' in  
there."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"You know full well, running your foot up and down my leg," he  
said lazily and he trailed on finger across her cheek and down to  
her swollen lips. "Really got me going."  
  
She licked the digit when it came in range. "Foot? What foot?"  
  
"Don't feign innocence with me, you vixen!" He tilted her face up  
towards him and captured her mouth with his own.   
  
They kissed for several leisurely molten moments before Hoshi  
pulled away laughing. "I mean it, Malcolm. I didn't play  
footsies with you. You know we are trying to keep this  
relationship of ours quiet."  
  
"Well,if you didn't, who..." Malcolm stopped and groaned.  
  
"Mrs. Phlox!" they both said together.  
  
  
* * * * * * *  
  
  
As they rode up in the turbolift to the bridge, Feezal spoke to  
the pilot. "Thank you so much, Travis."  
  
"Any time, Mrs. Phlox," the helmsman replied.  
  
Stepping forward and encroaching on Mayweather's personal space,  
the Denobulan ran a finger down the man's chest. "I want to  
thank you for being so kind to me, Travis. I really enjoyed  
looking at all the shuttlepods."  
  
Travis grinned and took a half a step back, but Feezal followed,  
maintaining her contact with her new friend. "I have some  
artwork I think you might find interesting. It's a scul..."  
  
"Well, actually," Travis said, deliberately cutting the woman  
off. He hadn't forgotten how she had deliberately squeezed his  
butt when they had crawled into one of the smaller shuttlepods.  
"I'm not into art that much, but I think Malcolm might appreciate  
it." It would serve the Brit right for sticking him with Phlox's  
wife. "I think he told me one time that he really had a weakness  
for fine art."  
  
Feezal sighed. "Ah, well thank you for letting me know, I'll  
have to speak to him about it."  
  
"Good idea, I think he's actually on the bridge..."  
  
At that moment, the door to the turbolift slid open to reveal the  
ship's center of activity.   
  
"Yep, he's at his station," Travis pointed over the woman's  
shoulder and toward the Tactical Station where Malcolm, head  
bowed over the controls, didn't see their entrance.  
  
Feezal moved forward and noted that not only was Malcolm on the  
bridge but so was that woman who had been in the mess hall  
yesterday. Hearing a whooshing sound behind her, she turned and  
saw that Travis hadn't followed her onto the bridge, but instead  
had stepped back into the lift.  
  
  
  
  
Hearing the turbolift close, Malcolm lifted his head. Noticing  
Feezal, he quickly resumed his task, hoping by looking busy she  
wouldn't bother him.   
  
But nothing short of a grappling hook, would stop the woman.  
  
Sauntering across the bridge, Feezal made a beeline towards the  
lieutenant.  
  
Malcolm tried to pay attention to the computer readout, but he  
couldn't ignore the sound of her approaching footsteps. He kept  
to his task, trying to ignore her presence, but when he heard her  
inhale deeply and then sigh ever so huskily, he couldn't help but  
look up.  
  
"Ah, Mrs. Phlox," Malcolm said. Looking past the Denobulan, he  
caught Hoshi's eye and noticed her glare. "Is there something I  
can do for you? Are you looking for the Captain?" *Please tell  
me you are looking for the Captain!*  
  
"So this is the life force of the ship? The very nucleus that  
holds everything together?" Feezal turned slowly around looking  
at the viewscreen, the seemingly tense communications officer,  
the empty Captain's chair, before once again pivoting back to  
look at the Armory Officer.  
  
"It's the bridge, Mrs. Phlox. I was told you'd already been up  
here when you were taken on the tour of the ship. I assure you  
nothing's changed since then. Now if you'll exc..."  
  
"Actually, my dear man, something has changed. And changed most  
dramatically."  
  
"I beg your pardon?"  
  
"It's you, Mr. Reed. Don't you see? You weren't on the bridge  
when I visited before. It makes all the difference, all the  
difference in the universe!"  
  
Malcolm snorted and bent his head to his task again.  
  
Not to be deterred, Feezal reached across the tactical station,  
which separated her from her goal, and ran a finger along the  
Brit's temple and down to the top of his ear.  
  
"I've found that I miss hearing your voice. It's so different  
that the rest of the crew."   
  
Malcolm reached up and grabbed the woman's questing hand.  
  
"I'm afraid this just isn't appropriate behavior for the bridge,  
ma'am."  
  
"I was hoping you'd say that," Feezal purred seductively. "I was  
just telling Travis, that back on my ship, I have some exquisite  
artwork I'm sure you'd like to see. He told me you are very fond  
of art."  
  
"Well, I never..."  
  
"You see, one of my other husband's wives is an accomplished  
sculptor. One summer, I posed for her in the nude." Feezal  
demonstrated the pose by placing one hand on the back of her  
upturned head, thrusting her breasts out, and resting the other  
hand against her outer thigh. Maintaining her position, she  
winked at the Brit. "Her attention to detail is just amazing,  
let me assure you."  
  
Malcolm groaned and buried his face in his hands. Attacking  
phaser-blasting aliens he could handle, but he had had apparently  
met his match when it came to Feezal Phlox.  
  
"Mrs. Phlox?"  
  
Feezal dropped the pose and turned upon hearing the sound of her  
name toward the source of the interruption.  
  
Hoshi smiled sweetly. "I believe they are waiting for you in  
Sickbay, Ma'am."  
  
"Oh? Oh, yes. That nice Trip Tucker will be looking for me,"  
she said, glancing back at the now relieved Brit. "But don't  
think I've forgotten about you, Lieutenant."  
  
Feezal backed away towards the turbolift waving at Malcolm.   
  
"I'm sure we'll meet again, Mr. Reed, before I have to leave the  
ship, until then!"  
  
After Feezal entered the turbolift and the doors slid shut,  
Malcolm breathed a sigh of relief and collapsed against his  
workstation. After taking a couple of moments, he lifted his  
head and looked over to see that Hoshi was now approaching him.  
  
"That call couldn't have come at a better time," he said with a  
half-smile.  
  
"What call?" she asked innocently. "I said I believed they were  
waiting for her. I didn't say that anyone had called the bridge  
wondering why she wasn't in sickbay."  
  
"You got to love a linguist," Malcolm remarked, his grin widened.  
  
"Yes," Hoshi said taking over where Feezal had left off, running  
her hands through Malcolm's hair. "You do."  
  
  
  
* * * * * *  
  
  
"Just a few more hours, Malcolm," Trip said as he pumped away on  
exercycle. "It won't be long before Feezal Phlox will leave  
Enterprise.  
  
"Can't come none to soon," Malcolm remarked. He was seated the  
exercycle next to the engineer.   
  
"You know I half expect her to walk in here any moment. I swear  
nothing will stop that woman from her goal," Trip said to his  
friend.  
  
Malcolm smiled. "Unless she has my personal security codes,  
she's not getting through that door."  
  
Trip grinned. "I always knew it would come in handy to know you,  
Malcolm. Tactical officers do have their uses."  
  
They continued to pedal the bikes for several more moments,  
before Trip spoke again. "So how did the target practice go?"  
  
"Fine. Just fine. Hoshi's really coming along."  
  
"Ah, huh."  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
"Let's just say, the next time you 'n Hoshi go target practicing,  
you need to remember to discard all the evidence. You left  
behind a couple of emergency beacons and a wine glass in the  
secondary cargo bay."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"If you two don't watch it, the whole ship will find out about  
what target you're practicing on."  
  
"Duly noted, sir."  
  
"Oh c'mon, Malcolm. I'm all for it. In fact I think you two  
probably do very well 'target practicing.'  
  
"And who else knows?"  
  
Trip shrugged. "Maybe Porthos. He was with me at the time, and  
did a lot of sniffing around that cargo bay."  
  
"Trip?"  
  
"Yeah, Malcolm?"  
  
"No more talk about sniffing, okay?"  
  
  
* * * * * *  
  
  
A few hours later, the senior staff stood at attention along one  
side of the corridor that led to the shuttlepod launch bay.   
Beginning with Travis, by order of rank, the crew waited while  
Feezal, accompanied by her husband, walked down the corridor.   
  
Feezal paid her respects to Travis, who immediately left the line  
and headed for the shuttlepod as soon as she moved on to the next  
person in line.  
  
Stepping up to Hoshi, Feezal extended a hand to the young woman.   
"It was a pleasure to meet you, Hoshi. I hope we can meet again  
someday."  
  
Being polite, Hoshi nodded and shook her hand. "I was very glad  
to meet you," Hoshi said. "I'm sure we'll meet again."  
  
Moving forward, Feezel held out her hand to Malcolm. Politely  
the Brit grasped it lightly with his own. "Dear Mr. Reed, we  
must get together in the future. There are so many things we  
need to talk about, and so many things I have to show you."  
  
Malcolm blushed.   
  
"You never did get to see my art collection, did you?"  
  
Hoshi leaned to her right, nearer Malcolm and Feezal, and spoke  
softly to the woman using the Denobulan language. Then ended the  
conversation with a kind smile and her eyes zeroed in on the  
other woman's.   
  
Feezal smiled nervously, and stepped away from Malcolm and spoke  
with Commander Tucker.  
  
"What did you say to her?" Malcolm whispered.   
  
"I told her that you were mine, and that unlike Denobulans, I  
didn't believe in sharing. Feezel then reminded me that you and I  
aren't wed."  
  
Malcolm bobbed his head.  
  
"I informed her that we weren't wed -- yet. But that I had  
plans, and they didn't include anyone else being part of the  
union."  
  
"Plans?" Malcolm asked.  
  
"I'll tell you all about them during our next target practice  
session."  
  
  
  
The End 


End file.
